Across that chain of mountains,
beyond, where the desert stops
and the prairie begins,
on the Eastern slope
where the sun shines in
the early light and the
wind comes down from
the tall peaks, bringing
rain to the valley,
and makes the flowers
in the desert grow.
Making the dry creek bed
run to the thirsty prairie, where
life again, begins.
Across those mountains,
where the wind blows,
let me follow you,
there, across on the
other side, where the water
brings again new life
and makes the flower grow, beyond.